


Dawn's Christmas Wish

by EndoratheWitch



Category: Strange Magic (2015)
Genre: Christmas Eve, F/M, Little Romance, Street Musician, Sweet, busker, little shop
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-12-20
Updated: 2016-12-20
Packaged: 2018-09-10 15:18:34
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,376
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8922160
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EndoratheWitch/pseuds/EndoratheWitch
Summary: Dawn sees a street musician outside in the cold and decides to invite him inside.





	

**Author's Note:**

> Just wanted to write a sweet holiday story. Excuse my Scottish Gaelic...used a bit of google translate...

It was Christmas Eve. 

A few flakes of snow had just started to fall and the street was a quaint brick-layered road that harkened back to the Victorian period. The street lamps, which all had that wrought-iron lamp look of the Victorian period, were decorated with evergreen garland and big red bows. 

The street was lined with old fashioned stores, antique shops, one of a kind toy stores, books stores, cafes and specialty shops that carried tea, coffee and food items not found at one's local grocery store. Each establishment was decorated for the holidays with garland, lights, ornaments and trees festooned for the holidays. The town even had a horse drawn carriage for the shoppers that walked the brick street and circled the local park, which was also decorated for the holidays. 

The snowflakes that were falling only added to the holiday postcard atmosphere. 

Bog had just picked his spot on the sidewalk. He was out of the way of foot traffic, but still easily seen and heard. The city council allowed musicians to play for money during the holiday season though Bog was one of the few to brave the cold. 

He wore a knit cap, pulled low over his dark hair and covering the tips of his ears. His long nose was red from the cold, but he had a crimson scarf wrapped around his neck that he could pull up over his sharp nose when he wasn't singing. The denim jacket he wore was thankfully quilted on the inside and he wore fingerless gloves that allowed him to strum his guitar, kept most of his hand warmish. 

Right now, Bog sat on a collapsible stool, tuning his instrument, hoping the cold didn't warp the sound of his old acoustic guitar. 

He had his guitar case open in front of him, a couple of lure dollars lying inside to encourage donations. After he finished with tuning the guitar, he adjusted his harmonica holder so it would sit more comfortably over his shoulders since the coat made his broad shoulders thicker than usual. He reached down and took a sip of water. The water was cold and he felt the icy slide of it down his throat and through his chest, making him shudder. Something warm would be nicer to drink, but water was fine, especially with playing the harmonica. 

Bog was actually a classical trained musician; he could play several instruments, though the two he currently had with him were his favorites. His voice was also classically trained—if he had wanted, he could have pursued a career in the opera, but Bog liked rock music too much. Since he could play and sing, the combination helped him in making money as a busker while he waited for his “big break” to make a “break through” into mainstream music...but who knew when that would happen? For now he would make his money busking and right now, with the Christmas shopping season in full swing, he had a good chance to earn quite a bit. 

Even with the threat of more snow coming, the street was full of Christmas shoppers and that meant possible tips. Hopefully he would make enough to cover rent, food...he had spent the last of his cash on a gift for his Mam, but she was worth it. No matter how annoying she could be, Bog loved his Mam. 

* 

Marianne frown glancing outside her shop window. The window was decorated for Christmas with garland, wreaths, colorful ribbons and displays of their specialty teas, coffees and hot coco in decorative tins, along with an assortment of hard to find chocolates and cookies, all imported. The display was reminiscent of Victorian Christmases which was the “theme” of Marianne and Dawn's store, The Fae and Thyme. 

Marianne was watching the musician outside so intently that she didn't hear her sister come up behind her until Dawn put a hand on her shoulder. 

“Whatcha doing?” 

Marianne nearly leaped right out of her skin. “Dawn! Geez!! A little warning!” the petite brunette gasped. 

Dawn giggled. “Sorry sis. What are you doing, something wrong with the window.” 

“No just...look out there.” Marianne pointed at the man who had just started to sing and play. 

They could could hear him thinly through the window. They couldn't be sure, but it sounded as if he was playing a very old type of Christmas carol. Even muted as it was through the glass, both sisters thought that it sounded beautiful. 

Dawn smiled. “Oh wow, a musician! He's sure to bring in some business! And listen to him—wow, what a great voice.” 

Marianne narrowed her eyes. “I suppose.” 

“What's wrong? You don't want him out there?” 

Dawn looked confused. 

Marianne sighed. “I guess it doesn't matter.” 

She wasn't sure what it was that bothered her. He was nice looking from what she could see and as she watched him sing she couldn't deny that his voice really was very nice...he had this slight growl to it and there was the hint of an accent. Marianne swiftly pushed that thought aside. She turned way from the window to address her sister. 

“So you have the free hot coco, coffee and the cold drinks like the apple cider going? Set out the free gingerbread cookies?” 

Dawn nodded and pointed over to the table with the lace table cloth. The table held a coffee maker, a large industrial thermos filled with coco along with paper cups, plates and napkins. A large ceramic platter decorated along the edge with holly berries and leaves (hand painted on the platter as well as real ones that added decoration to the setting) that held a large stack of homemade gingerbread cookies. 

“Oh Dawn, it looks so nice! Thank you.” Marianne smiled wrapping her arms around her little sister and giving her a squeeze. 

Dawn blushed grinning at her sister. “Thanks.” 

That was when the bells over the shop door chimed to alert them to a patron entering their establishment. The bells, which had belonged to their mother, had a sweet charming sound that always made people smile when they entered the little shop owned by the Summerfield sisters. 

Marianne grinned. “Let's get to work!” 

With that, Marianne turned. Dawn watched her sister walk over to greet their customer. Marianne looked calm, cool and professional. Her big sister had on a dark smokey purple eyeshadow around her soft brown eyes, a pair of black leggings and a long black tunic, with a stylish primrose necklace around her neck that had belonged to their mother along with a pair of knee-high black boots. There was a time when Marianne would never have worn black, or any other dark colors, but that had been before, when she was younger and mostly innocent Dawn supposed. 

Dawn stepped closer to the display window and glanced again at the musician outside. The way Marianne had been staring at the guy had gotten Dawn thinking. Marianne hadn't shown interest in anyone since the huge snafu with Roland...that ass. He had thrown her sister's love away by cheating on her. Marianne had changed after that...in many ways for the better, but there was one aspect of Marianne's change in attitude that Dawn didn't like...Marianne had given up on love. But as Dawn gazed at the singer outside she wondered if maybe all of that was about to change. Dawn closed her eyes for a moment. She whispered under her breath. “Please Santa, Christmas, the Spirit of giving...whatever holiday magic is out there...let this guy be the one for Marianne.” 

Dawn opened her eyes and sighed. If only it were that easy. It might take a tiny bit of sisterly pushing in the right direction to make Dawn's wish come true. 

* 

Despite the chill in the air that seemed to cut through his thin frame, Bog sang with a clear steady voice. He sang in Gaelic some old Christmas carols that his mother and father had taught him. He sang Don Oiche ud i mBeithil, then Tàladh Chriosda. He had done the work himself to fit the songs with a guitar and harmonica. It had been hard work, but he was pleased with the outcome. He started to sing some traditional Scottish Gaelic songs (not Christmas ones) along with a few Irish ones. The shoppers seemed to enjoy the Gaelic even if they had no idea what he was singing about. While Bog sang, he decided on mixing in some traditional American songs just to change things up a bit. 

* 

Each time the door to the shop was opened, Marianne would hear the street musician's gorgeous voice and playing floating in with the cold and snowflakes. She kept being distracted by him to the point that she was about ready to go out there and tell him to move to another store front. 

Dawn watched her sister, smirking at the way Marianne was reacting to the singer. That was when Dawn decided the poor guy had been out there long enough; it was time for that sisterly intervention. Dawn decided right then it was time to invite him inside to get warm. Besides, she thought if he sang inside it would really add to the atmosphere...and maybe her wish might get a little push in the right direction. 

So while Marianne was completely distracted in the back of the shop helping a pair of elderly ladies with picking out a tea set, Dawn slipped outside with a steaming cup of hot coca. 

* 

Bog had just finished a song and had stopped to blow on his fingers which, despite his constant playing, were stiffening from the cold when suddenly a cup of what smelled like hot coco was shoved under his long, sharp nose. 

“Here,” said a bright, sunny voice. “Drink this—it will help warm you up.” 

Bog looked up into the light blue eyes of a young blonde woman. She smiled at him as Bog gratefully took the cup. 

“Thank ye,” he murmured holding the warmth closer to his face letting the steam rise up and warm his nose and lips. 

The young woman squatted down beside him. Bog glanced sideways at her, frowning slightly. She had to be cold; she wasn't wearing a coat. She had on a little red sweater and a pale pink skirt with a pair of white boots. She reminded Bog of a candy cane. 

She smiled at him. “My name is Dawn.” 

Bog smiled, a little unsure and put his hand out to her. “Bog.” 

Dawn took his hand which encompassed hers. “Nice you meet you Bog.” 

She grinned brightly releasing his hand as she said, “I have a proposition for you.” 

Bog narrowed his eyes. “A proposition?” 

She nodded. “My sister and I would like you to come inside and play for our customers and in exchange you can have hot drinks and cookies. Oh and you can leave your case open for tips still.” 

Bog had to take a second look at the blonde. “Really? Why?” 

She nodded and shivered a bit, wrapping her arms around her shoulders to try to keep some of her heat close to her body. 

“Hmmhmmm...yep. You shouldn't be sitting out in this cold.” 

“Why?” Bog asked again looking confused...the offer was too good to be true, hot drinks, cookies, an audience, and warmth? 

Dawn smiled. “I liked your singing and no one should sit out here in the cold.” 

Bog stared at her. She was lovely, sweet, and seemed sincere; a Christmas angel. 

“Sure.” he said with a grin. 

* 

Marianne was just finishing with a customer when she saw her sister come in leading the musician that had been camped outside their store. Marianne blinked. Whoa, he was...gorgeous! Not your traditionally handsome, but there was something compelling about him that drew your attention. His eyes were amazing. Even from here across the store, she could see the vivid blue of them. They were stunning. He stood behind her sister, hunched shoulders, his guitar held close to him, his arms wrapped protectively around the instrument even though it was in its case, as he pressed it to his chest. He had a knit cap pulled down over his ears and a bright red scarf around his neck; his eyes kept darting around nervously. Marianne felt herself blush when his eyes darted over toward her. 

Dawn waved at her sister motioning for the guy to follow her. 

“Hey Marianne, let me introduce you to Bog King, our street musician. I invited him to come play inside. I thought maybe we could offer him free drinks and cookies for entertaining our customers.” Dawn grinned proud of herself. 

Bog ducked his head with a soft smile. “Hello,” he said simply. 

Marianne was struck dumb by his speaking voice. He had an accent just like she thought she had heard in his singing voice. His voice was warm and inviting like a hot toddy or a milk punch. If she wasn't mistaken, he was Scottish. 

Marianne felt a burn that ran straight down to her groin and spread out with a delicious warmth to the rest of her body. She swallowed, hoping her face wasn't too flushed though it felt as if her whole body had caught on fire. Bog pulled a glove off with his teeth...delightfully charming crooked teeth, then he held out his hand. 

Marianne took this offered hand. His fingers were long, graceful...an artist's fingers. She looked up into those blue eyes, framed in a rough, unshaven face, and for a moment she forgot her name. Dawn frowned looking between the two of them. Bog and her sister were just staring at each other. Dawn looked back and forth...they just...stared. Finally she nudged her sister in her ribs. Marianne shook herself then blinked looking embarrassed. 

“I'm Marianne.” 

Bog smiled. “It's a pleasure to meet you, Marianne.” 

Marianne swallowed nervously. She really liked the way he said her name. 

“Bog is it? Ah...let me show you where you can set up.” 

Marianne led Bog to a spot near the register where he was easily visible, yet could have enough room to play and sing, his guitar case open to receive “donations.” She brought him over a stool which he quietly thanked her for, perching his long, lean frame on the edge with his guitar held on his lap. His voice was like honey when he started to sing. 

For Bog, Marianne was a dream come true. She beautiful...No, he realized. Beautiful was too small a word to describe her. While he sang, in his mind, he thought of words, lyrics to describe how she looked to him. He didn't realize he was composing a song to her, just letting the feeling the carry him. It wasn't only her physical attributes that he found attractive, however. There was her ready smile and kind words that she shared, even with the most difficult of customers. The soft mellow sound of her laughter and the way her smile could light the room up. She was kind, generous and strong. No one walked over her. Bog watched her work throughout the morning; her charm and determination were amazing to behold. He was almost singing and playing on automatic as all his attention was riveted to Marianne. 

* 

Dawn watched them with a grin. The covert glances they gave one another, the smiles they shared when their eyes would meet. Oh maybe this was going to turn out far better than she had anticipated. Their attraction for one another was clear. Now, to get each of them to act on it. Dawn, her sweet little face turned shrewd and cunning as she plotted how to get her sister and the musician alone in the hopes that some Christmas magic might start between them. 

* 

The rest of the work day went swimmingly. Bog sang, even taking customer requests that included singing Jingle Bells, Silver Bells and Rudolph the red-nosed Reindeer for a couple of little girls who giggled and squealed. Dawn elbowed Marianne. 

“Why don't you bring him some of the apple cider or something and some cookies?” she suggested. “I bet he's hungry.” 

Marianne looked flustered suddenly, which made Dawn grin. Marianne hadn't reacted to any guy like this since before her break up with Roland. Roland had made Marianne lose her confidence for a while. When her big sister had regained her confidence, Marianne had decided she didn't need anyone. Which was fine, Dawn thought, except Marianne had cut herself off from even the potential of love. But now...the way Marianne was looking at Bog...Dawn grinned. 

* 

Business was slow for the moment, a lull between the Christmas shoppers. Marianne fixed Bog a plate of cookies and a mug of cool apple cider and walked over to where he sat. Right now he was giving his voice a rest, lightly strumming out the tune of “The First Noel” to the delight of the few shoppers in the store at the moment. Marianne studied him as she walked closer. His jaw was unshaven, and his hair looked like he had had it cut short once, but it was now growing out which made it shaggy. She liked it, the way the dark locks curled slightly around his face. When he had removed his jacket she had noticed he was extremely thin. Marianne thought that might just be how he was, extremely thin, one of those people who could eat a lot and never put on weight, but there was a lean strength to him, and there was no doubt in her mind that Bog King could take care of himself. 

She walked over smiling at him. “Why don't you take a break and eat some cookies? I could order you some lunch too.” 

Bog finished the last chords with a flourish before looking up at her. Marianne felt her heart slam against her chest. She had never in all her years been drawn to a man like this...it wasn't just the pure lust that swirled in her belly (and there was a LOT of that!) but something else...Marianne didn't believe in soul mates or people meant to be together, but looking into Bog King's eyes, she was certainly willing to entertain the idea. 

For a moment Bog found himself speechless. She was simply stunning. He could feel that quiver in his gut that told him he could easily fall for this woman. If he had more confidence, he might even ask her out. But he was ugly. He had nothing to offer anyone but himself...and he knew he was not enough for any woman, let alone a beauty like Marianne. 

“It's okay, thanks.” He reached gratefully for the cookies. Marianne blurted out her next statement without stopping to think it through. “I could buy you lunch. I go on my break soon, so we could eat together if you want.” Her cheeks burned, but there it was...she had asked him out...on a date...sorta. 

Bog had just taken a bite of gingerbread, the rich molasses and spices melting on his tongue. He almost groaned with happiness, but then Marianne had offered to take him to lunch and his brain short circuited. 

Around a mouth full of cookie Bog exclaimed. “What?!” 

Marianne blushed, though her smile was heartfelt and wide. “I would like to buy you a late lunch if you would eat with me.” 

Bog swallowed. He frowned, still clearly confused “Why?” 

Marianne smiled reassuringly. “I would like to eat food, with you. My treat.” She felt as if her blush was going to burn the tips of her ears right off if it didn't stop. 

Bog felt that warmth that had been sitting in the pit of his groin since the moment he saw her, explode outward and spread through his entire body. She wanted to take him out for lunch? Trying to process that statement was still giving him difficulty. 

Before he could form a coherent answer, Dawn came dancing up. “Ooh you two should totally go to lunch together! Lizzie is going to be here soon. She and I can handle things here. You guys should take as much time as you need.” 

With that, two very startled adults were ushered out into the snow, both of them bundled up in the coats, hats and scarves. Dawn grinned a them as she shoved them out of the shop. Yes, her Christmas wish just might come true. 

* 

The Christmas atmosphere was thick on the streets. The snow that had begun falling that morning was thicker now. The flakes had become bigger and fluffy as they slowly drifted down from the grey sky. Marianne, with her deep purple coat and matching knit cap that was trimmed in fluffy white, looked absolutely stunning to the musicia; Bog couldn't keep a stupid grin off his face. Marianne glanced sideways and up to look at Bog. His profile was sharp and with the knit cap pulled down over his ears he looked simply adorable, but the smile on his face, that smile of his, had her enchanted. Bog caught her staring at him and smiled broader. Oh, Marianne thought, those crooked teeth of his...why was that so attractive? 

“Something on my face?” Bog asked as they strolled up to a quaint little cafe. He pulled the door open and held it for her. 

Marianne laughed. “No, no...just...it's nothing.” 

She stepped past Bog into the cafe where they were greeted with the scent of coffee, sandwiches, mixed with the scents of cinnamon and other spices. The walls of the cafe were brick and there were exposed beams above. The whole place felt cozy and inviting. Soft “chill” Christmas music was playing as a waitress stepped up to them. “Two?” 

Marianne nodded. “Hey Jillian and yes, two.” 

Jillian glanced over at Bog who had pulled his cap off and was running his fingers through his hair gazing around the place. Jillian's eyes widened and she leaned in to whisper at Marianne. 

“Wow, good choice!” 

Marianne blushed, but answered with a slight giggled, “Thank you.” 

* 

Soon they were seated looking over the menus that Jillian had given them. Bog ordered a soda and Marianne ordered some iced tea. Bog glanced over his menu at her. God she is cute, he thought. “So what would you recommend?” he asked. 

Marianne smiled as she replied, “I would say the potato soup with a BLT, at least that is what I'm getting.” 

Bog grinned. “Sounds perfect.” 

When Jillian came back, Marianne placed their orders (yet another plus to Bog. He didn't mind her ordering for him—Roland would never have allowed that) then they both sat back. 

“So, you're a musician...” Marianne started then immediately wanted to smack herself in the head. Well duh...he had only been playing music all day in her shop. She glanced down, fooling with the nails of her fingers trying to hide her embarrassment at what she felt was a stupid question, and her nervousness. 

Bog nodded. “Aye, my Da was one and he taught me everything he knew.” 

Marianne smiled. “You're amazing.” Her voice had dropped slightly when she said this, as if part of her was hoping he would not hear her compliment. 

Bog blushed. Marianne liked the rosy color that warmed his cheeks. 

“Thank you.” Bog glanced down at his hands that he had set on the table, where his long fingers were laced together. He kept moving them, a nervous habit. “That...I mean, you own that store?” 

Marianne nodded. “Yup, my sister and me. We bought it with the money my mom left us in her will. Turned it around...it used to be a smoke shop. Business has been great for the last year and a half.” 

Bog nodded. “I like it—ye actually have a few things from home there.” 

Marianne grinned at the compliment. “Thank you and yes, we carry a few things from Scotland.” 

Bog nodded. “I might have to pick up a few things. Remind myself of home and such.” 

He glanced over at her. Marianne smiled. To anyone else in the cafe, they resembled two lovebirds having lunch together, not two people just getting to know one another. 

* 

While they ate their lunch, Bog and Marianne talked about their families, their past failed relationships, their goals for the future...their half hour lunch turned into an hour, then another hour...progressing into a walk in the snow over to the small park (Dawn had texted after a hour had passed, telling Marianne to take the rest of the day off, she and Lizzie had everything covered. And while Marianne was not prone to being selfish or self-indulgent, this time she did....she was enjoying herself far too much. Bog was...well she really, really liked him. (At the shop, Dawn and Lizzie were nearly ecstatic with the possibility that something divine was happening for her sister with Bog...something magical). 

The park, (not the big city park) was located in a patch of open ground between two buildings that the town had decided would be a nice place for shoppers to relax. There was a small covered bridge over a little man-made stream, along with a tiny gazebo. In the summer the tiny park was filled with roses, but today the snow was turning it into a small landscape of white, covering the bridge and gazebo in white, pristine snow. 

They stopped on the covered bridged to gaze down at the water. The stream was small, but the water in it ran quickly to wherever it was going. Marianne leaned her elbows on the rail and shivered just a little. Bog stepped closer, wrapping an arm around her shoulders. Marianne leaned against him wrapping her arm around his waist. All of it felt strangely...perfect. 

Marianne turned to look up at him. He wrapped both arms around her, turning her toward him, her hands were pressed between their chests. 

She smiled up at him. “This is nice.” 

Bog grinned in return. “Yes, it is.” 

Bog just held her. She laid her face against his chest snuggling close. Bog chuckled and Marianne glanced up at him with her nose wrinkled. “My nose is freezing.” 

“Here, let me check.” Bog leaned down and rubbed his nose against hers. They both laughed. Bog frowned. “Can't tell, my nose is freezing too!” 

Marianne chuckled. “Funny.” 

They were quiet again when Bog murmured, “Want to go on a carriage ride? I saw there was a horse drawn carriage that takes you up and down the street and around the city park. Might be fun.” 

Marianne grinned. “Sounds nice.” 

Holding hands (which they seemed to do unconsciously), they headed off to the carriage stop to wait their turn to ride in one of the carriages. Luckily they only had to wait fifteen minutes though the street lamps had begun to glimmer into life, making the softly falling snow resemble tiny crystals dancing on the wind as well as transporting them to those old Victorian Christmas cards' atmosphere that portrayed idealistic scenes of sleigh rides and snow on a cold Christmas day. 

Bog noticed Marianne rubbing her hands together even though she had her mittens on. Bog wrapped his own fingerless gloved hands around her hands. Marianne gazed up while Bog held her hands between his much larger ones and blew between his hands heating hers. They stared at one another while he blew warm air onto her gloved hands. The heat of his breath transferred through the yarn of the mittens warming her hands. The snowflakes settled along the edge of his cap and his blue eyes sparkled. Marianne couldn't seem to take her eyes off him. He smiled at her causing her heart to flop wonderfully in her chest. 

Bog gazed into her warm brown depths, her tiny hands encompassed in his much larger grasp. The snow made her hair sparkle where it landed on her bangs that stuck out in wild abandon from her winter hat. 

His eyes only moved to notice the cold deepened the rosy color of her cheeks. If he believed in magic he would swear that there was magic in the air right now looking down on this beautiful woman. 

But soon it was their turn to climb into the carriage. 

Bog hopped up lightly into the carriage turning and bowing, his hand extended to her. Marianne laughed taking his hand letting him lift her into the carriage. They sat and the carriage driver helped them situate the blankets around their legs. Bog wrapped his arm around her shoulders just as the horse took off at a crisp trot, which caused Marianne to jerk back against Bog. They both laughed at that. 

Marianne leaned against Bog, happy in the circle of his arms. She even laid her head against his chest. Bog smiled; Marianne felt good against him, felt as if she had always been there and the urge to kiss the top of her head was too much to resist. 

Marianne grinned when she felt the press of his lips against her hair just above her temple. 

They were quiet for a few moments, just enjoying the ride, the gently falling snow and each others company. 

“You ever feel like you're dreaming when you're awake?” Marianne asked softly as the soft jingle of the bells and the clip clop of the horse's hooves created a gentle rhythm. 

Bog smiled tightening his arm around her shoulder. 

“Aye, I do,”he answered softly. 

Marianne shifted a little in order to gaze into his blue eyes. “This is all so lovely.” 

Bog smiled down at her. “Aye, it is, very lovely.” 

“What would you say to me if this is a dream?” Marianne blushed, but she felt as if she were under a spell. 

“I would call you cruaidh nighean.” 

Marianne smiled. “That sounds beautiful. What does it mean?” 

Bog chuckled. “Tough girl.” 

“Tough girl?” She started laughing. “Why on earth would you call me that?” 

Bog chuckled. “Because, you're tough. I saw you in there, your store, that is. You were handling customers back and forth, taking care of the hard ones, not taking any crap from some of the more “grumpy” patrons. You have a backbone of steel.” 

Marianne laughed. “I like it, cruaidh nighean.” 

Bog grinned at her. The horse moved slowly, the snow was falling in soft gentle flakes but they were both warm and cozy snuggled against each other. 

Bog, feeling brave, ran the tip of one finger along her jaw, staring into her eyes; he couldn't seem to tear his gaze away from the warm depths of her brilliant eyes. 

Marianne's skin tingled where he touched her, a burning line where his fingertip ran along her jaw. Bog leaned in and Marianne could feel the warmth of his breath, a gentle breeze against her lips just before he pressed his mouth against hers. 

Marianne practically swooned...something she had not done in ages and not like this...if everything else about this man felt “right” this kiss sealed the deal. Marianne wrapped her arms around his neck tugging the man in for a deeper kiss. Bog made the most delicious moan when her mouth opened. Their tongues danced slowly, tenderly. The new couple pulled each other closer, their bodies creating a warmth. 

* 

Dawn and Lizzie were starting the clean up. The shop would be closing soon. There were only a few stragglers coming into the store, last minutes shoppers who realized hey had forgotten someone or who had simply waited until the last possible moment to go out. 

Dawn was at the front window doing a little dusting while Lizzie was busy with their last customer. Dawn had just turned the sign around to read “closed” when she heard the clip-clop and jingle bells announcing the approach of the horse-drawn carriage. As the carriage moved past the shop, who should Dawn see but her sister in a lip lock with Bog—a pretty passionate kiss at that. 

Dawn grinned and whispered. “Thanks Santa, just what I asked for...”


End file.
